There was a woman inside, Neya noticed with some surprise.

She was tall and voluptuous, with red-gold hair flowing in curls around her head, and she was a channeler, a powerful one. Jay gasped in horror.

Neya didn't hesitate. Embracing the Source, she weaved something to shield both of them from whatever Graendal – she was quite certain it was her – had in store for them and was rewarded by the stunned look that passed across the Forsaken's face. Without a moment's hesitation, the older woman vanished.

There was a long silence. "You channeled," Jay remarked weakly.

She turned to face him. "I did," she said, wonder in her voice. "Does that mean the block is gone?"

"Probably," he replied. "That was Graendal," he added conversationally.

"I know. We should warn Rand," she said briskly, all trace of her stupor following the recent events suddenly evaporated.

When they found him, the Dragon Reborn was talking with a rather short, slender man with greying hair. The door was open, so they stood just outside the room while Rand explained to the man – whom he referred to as Lord Bashere – that he intended to proclaim an amnesty for all men who could channel, Mazrim Taim included. Neya had no idea who Mazrim Taim was, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

Eventually, Lord Bashere gave Rand a small bow and departed, eying them curiously on his way out. Rand gestured for them to approach.

"Rand, Graendal just tried to kill him," Neya announced without preamble, indicating Jay.

Dropping his goblet, Rand jumped to his feet, looking around the room as if he expected the Forsaken to appear right then and there. "Where? What happened?" he asked crisply.

"In one of the wine cellars, down in the gardens. She fled when she realised I'm more powerful than she is," Neya explained.

They both stared at her in astonishment. "You are?" Rand asked incredulously.

Neya pursed her lips. "I think so. I haven't really learned how to estimate these things. Anyway, I wove some kind of ward – don't ask me exactly what I did, I have no idea – and she… disappeared."

"So you… channeled? But Moiraine says–" He cut off abruptly, blinking, then seemed to regain his composure. "She said you had a block and couldn't channel unless someone was wounded, possibly someone specific. Although she didn't say who, from what I know, I assumed it was Ishamael."

Neya nodded. "True. But now that I think about it, I already channeled earlier, when–" She stopped mid-sentence when she realised what she'd been about to reveal. Shaking her head slightly, she went on more carefully. "While you were fighting Rahvin. I don't remember much about it, but suddenly I was holding saidar and trying to Heal… people," she told Rand with a pointed look, avoiding Jay's curious gaze.

"Can you embrace saidar now?" Rand asked. She could, she realised with delight, and she did. For the third time that day, the Power filled her. It truly was an intoxicating feeling. No wonder people burned themselves out by channeling too much. Rand nodded slowly. "Good. I can use that," she heard him mutter. Neya couldn't have made out the words if she hadn't been holding saidar.

"I'd be happy to assist in any way I can," she said quietly, causing him to flinch. "What was it that you were discussing with Lord Bashere? An amnesty? What do you intend to do exactly?"

Rand considered her for a moment. "I mean to gather all men who can channel and give them proper training, so they can fight for me in the Last Battle," he answered gravely.

"You want to turn them into weapons," she said flatly. Rand simply nodded. Light, but her old friend had become cold. "How can I help?" Jay was frowning at her.

"How could you? They're men. Even if you can channel at will, you can't teach them anything," Rand told her.

"Even if I could teach them to become weapons, I wouldn't," she replied coolly. "But if you're going to gather them all in one place, you will need someone to organise them, handle the logistics, that sort of things," she went on.

They were both frowning at her now. "Of course," Rand said suddenly, slapping his forehead. "I almost forgot." He let out a long breath. "You want to help them. I understand that, Neya, but is it really a good idea? I assumed you would want to go home, once this business with Rahvin was done. Especially now that Lanfear is gone," he murmured. Moiraine's abrupt loss apparently burdened him more than she thought it would. They hadn't seemed particularly close.

Jay cleared his throat loudly, as if to remind them both that he was still there. "Maybe we could both help, my Lord Dragon. I could teach the men, even with the shield, and Neya can help with the rest," he supplied hopefully.

Rand was shaking his head before he was done talking. "No, you will stay with me," he said firmly. The older man opened his mouth to argue, but Rand forestalled him. "I trust you, Natael, to an extent, but I'm not willing to let you out of my sight, not quite yet. Besides, I can make use of your insights." He turned to Neya. "You're right, however. I will need someone I can trust to take care of the male channelers when I'm not around, and I won't be, most of the time. Light knows I don't have time to spare," he whispered almost inaudibly.

"Do you mean for her to do that on her own? To be surrounded by men who can channel, men who will eventually go insane? With all due respect, my Lord Dragon, this is insane!" Jay blurted out.

"I can take care of myself, Joar," Neya told him coolly. She realised, too late, that she'd used his real name. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps she was trying to distance herself from him.

He rounded on her. "Can we at least discuss this? When did you even decide that you wanted to leave?" he asked her sharply.

"Very well," she said, turning to Rand. "I will come back later, when we've sorted this out." Rand nodded, already dismissing them from his mind.

They walked back to the gardens in silence, Jay glowering at everyone who passed them by. Mat and Aviendha were gone when they arrived, so Neya went to the fountain and sat on its edge. Jay followed her, stomping on the wilted grass angrily. "What in the Pit of Doom was that all about?" he hissed at her.

"I need to get away from you," she replied softly. "I told you it was a bad idea. I shouldn't have let you talk me into this," she said with a gesture encompassing the both of them.

He looked at her indignantly. "I didn't exactly force you into anything, you know! And why is it a bad idea? Because of Graendal? Is that what you're afraid of? That they'll all come for you now? You don't think I can keep you safe?"

He looked as though he wanted to keep asking pointless questions, so she interrupted him. "Who kept whom safe, back in the cellar?" Neya inquired. He opened his mouth but closed it again a second later. He hadn't done anything even remotely helpful in there, and he knew it. "I'm not blaming you, Jay, I'm just making a point. And it's not me I'm worried about. You should know better than that by now."

"But you're not making any sense! Look, you're right. I was useless against Graendal. I am useless," he snarled at her. "If you hadn't been there, I would have died. But that's exactly my point! If you leave, who will look out for me? Al'Thor?" he snorted. "He doesn't care whether I live or die. I've taught him what he needed to know. I'm too weak to teach him anything else, and he knows that. He keeps me around because no matter what he says, he still doesn't trust me. He never will."

Why did he have to make things even more difficult? Did he think she wanted to leave him? "So you want me to stay to be your bodyguard?" she asked sarcastically.

"Of course not! I just don't understand why you want to go. If you're afraid something might happen to me, wouldn't it make more sense for you to make sure nothing happens, by staying close to me? Or do you just want to be far away when something does happen?" he went on in a snarky tone.

"I can't go through this again," she whispered. "First Elan, then you…" She trailed off as yet another image of his charred body flashed in her mind. She gave herself a shake. "I can't lose you again. Do you have any idea what it was like for me, earlier? Or haven't you figured out what happened yet?" she told him, suddenly angry.

That took him aback. There was a long silence before he spoke again. "I… died, didn't I?" he asked uncertainly. "The balefire he used on Ared brought me back," he went on, without hesitation this time. He had probably known this before she asked, but hadn't dared admit it to himself.

"You and Mat both. The lightning must have struck you just after the Trollocs emerged. I stood weeping over your corpses for over half an hour, Jay," she murmured in a tight voice. "Do you have any idea how that felt?" she asked again, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I can't say that I do," he muttered, reaching for her. She pulled away from him. "Neya, it won't happen again," he told her.

"How can you say that with a straight face? You follow the Dragon Reborn and you're considered a traitor by the Forsaken, by the Dark One itself! How can you possibly tell me nothing like this will ever happen again?" she asked him incredulously.

"You're right, I can't," he admitted reluctantly, "but I do know we'd all be a lot safer if you stuck around," he told her with an edge of desperation in his voice.

She was shaking her head before he finished. "I can't," she muttered. "I just can't, I'm sorry," she said again, standing up. "I care about you, more than you might think, and certainly more than I should. But I can't be with you." Without another word, she walked past him and made her way back to the palace. He called after her, but she didn't look back.